


Never Seen You Sweat

by razz



Series: Never Seen You Sweat [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, Mild Angst, Yoga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/razz/pseuds/razz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames has never seen Arthur sweat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Seen You Sweat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kazz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazz/gifts).



> For my best friend and the prompt: Watching their lover practicing yoga at dawn.

Eames has never seen Arthur sweat. He's never seen Arthur show any kind of real emotion, unless you count mild irritation; and irritation is a baseline reaction of those around Eames in general.

For all that they have been lovers for years, coming together and parting as their lives lead them, Arthur has never expressed an opinion one way or another about Eames. 

In the heat of passion, Eames can look down into Arthur's face at any given time, and all he will see is distant acceptance of the moment. When Arthur comes, he comes silently with nothing to show on his face. Eames pants and curses and moans. He grunts and presses and laughs breathlessly. Afterward, he curls tightly around Arthur and strokes his cheek against the top of Arthur's head. 

Arthur never stays the whole night. Eames wouldn't be surprised if Arthur tranquilizes him when he feels like leaving, because he never remembers the other man's departure. Maybe he should feel awkward for kicking the man out of his own hotel rooms, or safe houses, but if Eames didn't come to Arthur first, he's pretty sure he'd never see him outside of jobs. 

So, maybe it should piss him off. That he's the only one with feelings in this relationship, that he's chasing a one-sided heartbreak, and Arthur doesn't even care. Maybe it does. But Arthur has never told him 'no'. He's never closed the door in Eames' face or told him to fuck off. It's mostly stopped hurting, now. Eames will take what he can until Arthur turns him away.

It's pre-dawn, in a faceless beach house that Eames has followed Arthur to twice before. He's alone in the bed, as usual, but they have a few more days on this job, and their location is secure. He's betting on Arthur returning sometime in the afternoon, but as he descends from the loft bed, he sees him through the full length windows at the back of the house. 

The back deck catches the first morning light, and through the glass panels Eames watches his lover. Arthur is in profile against the sunrise, his curves and contours blocking the orange light peeking over the ocean. Arthur is moving fluidly through sun salutations, and Eames watches in helpless fascination, as the lean muscles in his back catch the light. As his arms and legs bend and straighten. As two beads of sweat trace their way from temple to collarbone and then back up his face when he bends, folds in half at the waist, with no sign of discomfort. 

He know's he's been spotted, but he's unable to look away. He licks his lips, aching to follow each bead of sweat with his tongue. Pale perfect skin stretches over the knobs of Arthur's spine, Eames needs to feel Arthur's spine under his lips and bite at the lean muscle where Arthur's neck meets his shoulder. 

Arthur's never told him no. Eames could walk over there and do all of those things and more. He's 80% sure that Arthur would let him. He can see the irritated frown that would slide into blankness, unreadable. He can taste the salty skin, when he would kiss Arthur, and Arthur would open his mouth and let him. 

He takes one step, but only one. It's not the other 20% that stops him. The voice that asks every time, if this is the time that Arthur will say no, or more likely, just shiv him somewhere inconvenient and step over him, to leave with perfect unconcern. What stops him is the stillness of the morning, the striking show of light and shadow over lean flesh before him, and those little drops of sweat. Eames has never seen Arthur sweat.


End file.
